


Vacuums & Pack Piles

by wordslikelightning



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek misses his family, Developing Relationship, F/M, Gen, M/M, Pack Feels, Puppy Piles, Really fluffy, Scott is a potato, Stiles loves his kitchen, mentioned Peter Hale/Melissa McCall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:30:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordslikelightning/pseuds/wordslikelightning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sterek prompt fill: “Are werewolves afraid of vacuums or do you just like growling at cleaning supplies?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vacuums & Pack Piles

**Author's Note:**

> I tried for funny but my Derek feels got the better of me...

Stiles swears he is the only one who cleans after pack meetings. He isn't bitter though, it helps the pack and if he was honest with himself, he rather enjoys it.

  On weekends, the pack gathers at the newly rebuilt Hale house for training. Everyone was required to be there, werewolves and humans. Derek trains the betas on the edge of the woods and the non-fanged members watch from the safety of the porch. Even if training looks more like extreme tag to Stiles, he decides it’s better to let it go than risk damaging the reluctant fondness the resident sourwolf has seems to have developed for the spastic youth.  

Derek had become more secure in his position as alpha after dealing with the Alpha Pack (capital letters are needed, yes they are), and the pack had actually started getting along. Scott got his act together pretty quickly when Stiles made it abundantly clear who's pack he was in and put aside his pride to do the smart thing and join Derek's pack. Jackson isn't as much of a jackass as he used to be before his scaly little problem cropped up, plus Lydia helps a lot. There were problems, they are teenagers of course, but everyone settled down and is at least civil, if not friendly on better days. 

Once Peter and Derek got them good and tired from training, they drag themselves inside, sprawling over the assorted furniture or collapsing on the floor. Peter rarely sticks around of the after training session, too busy wooing Mrs. McCall to hang around with a bunch of teenagers.   The rest, however, make steadily more petulant complaints of hunger or fatigue and generally acting like children.

Stiles and Allison take pity on them and throw together something for them all to eat under the watchful eyes of Lydia in Stiles' kitchen. Stiles picked out the appliances for the kitchen, and pretty much everything else in it. Since he was the one who spent the most time cooking, and once again, the only one who cleans it, he likes to think of it as his. And it’s pretty slick, if he does say so himself.

  After the pack is fed and watered, that being an exceptional feat on it’s own, Stiles wanders around, stacking plates and cups to load into the dishwasher while the alpha and his pups talk strategy or watch a movie.  

Stiles leans against his now spotless counter, sighing as he takes in the mess Scott made of one of the bags of chips. He still forgets how strong he is and when a thin layer of foil separates him and nummies. Well to be honest, it never stood a chance, but Stiles couldn’t be mad at him. If he didn’t already have a soft spot for his puppy eyes, the sight of his best friend with Doritos in his hair and around his feet blinking those dark brown eyes at him sealed the deal.

Now he the only thing he could do is roll out the vacuum and start making a dent in the sea of flavored corn chips. Stiles had only gotten roughly a third of the floor clean when a pair of boots obstructed his path. He looks up to see a set of broody eyebrows and a frown to match. Knowing he wont get further  without dealing with whatever this is about, he switches off the vacuum.  

“Something the matter?” Stiles asks, raising an eyebrow of his own.

  “What are you doing?” Derek growls out while eyeing the vacuum like it is making to attack.  

“Well, I thought that something should be done about the chips on the ground, but I have a feeling you are about to tell me different.”   Derek literally growls this time, eyes a split second away from shooting lasers at the machine. Stiles rolls his eyes.

  “Come on, Derek, use your words!” And because he is Stiles and can’t control his mouth, he adds, “are werewolves afraid of vacuums or do you just like growling at cleaning supplies?”

  Derek shifts his glare to Stiles who is unaffected. That had stopped working on him months ago. Stiles just looks at him and waits for an answer.

  Derek huffs, gaze being less sharp, and mumbles something that if Stiles had been a werewolf, probably would have heard. But Stiles is human and asks, oh so eloquently, “say what?”

  Stiles sees the corners of Derek mouth upturn just a fraction and counts it as a win.  

“I said, the noise vacuums make isn’t nice. It hurts our ears. I had forgotten, it’s been so long…” Derek trails off, his personal ghosts reflected in his eyes.

  That wasn’t what Stiles was expecting, not at all. He tugs at the chord, unplugging it from the wall and begins to wind it up. “You could have just asked me to use the broom and dust pan.” Stiles wheels the vacuum back to the hall closet and when he walks back into the kitchen Derek is kneeling with a dust pan trying to sweep at the same time. Stiles steps up and takes the handle of the broom, dragging the chips toward Derek. They finished the floor in silence, listening to the sounds of the movie, Erica’s slightly manically laughter and Jackson’s scoffs from the den.  

Stiles sweeps the last bits up and Derek pulls out the trash and dumps them in, but doesn’t stand up. Stiles leans the broom against the counter. With one hand on the older man’s shoulder, he kneels in front of him to bring them to eye level. He slips his hand up into Derek’s dark hair (which is something they do now), while tipping his face up with the other to make eye contact. “Hey there,” Stiles whispers softly. “Do you want to go start a pile with the others?” He knew how much the pack’s contact helped him remember he wasn’t alone anymore. Derek nodded, threading their fingers together and walking into the den.  

Derek settles down against one of the bean bags, pulling Stiles down against him. Isaac was always the first to get in on a pile. He wedged himself right in between their legs, head in their laps and a hand fisted in each of their shirts. Scott presses his back against Stiles’, with Allison resting on his chest. Erica slides in behind Derek, wrapping her arms around his waist and one hand on Stiles. Boyd fits himself right against her. Jackson and Lydia lay on either side of the mess of Stiles, Derek and Isaac’s legs. Each with a cheek resting on someone’s thigh and their hands laced on the back of Isaac’s knees.  

As each member fits into the puzzle, Derek’s tension eases. He nuzzles into Stiles’ hair and presses a kiss to his temple in a silent thank you. Stiles hummed sleepily in response and tries to move closer, one hand falling into Isaac’s curls.

  With the only light coming from the muted TV and the sound of steadying breaths, they all fell asleep in a tangle on the floor of the den. There was nowhere else they would rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> I don't own anything, I just like to play here. The writers and creators get all the credit for making such wonderful places and characters.  
> I can be found at theseeyesofmine or wordslikelightning on Tumblr if anyone is interested.


End file.
